


whipping boy

by WhiteJackal



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, joffrey is the worst, tiny pieces of canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 12:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14934095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteJackal/pseuds/WhiteJackal
Summary: there are few pleasures akin to blood for a boy such as joffrey baratheon.OR, a night in the life of joffrey's first plaything.





	whipping boy

**Author's Note:**

> set before book 1, 'a game of thrones,' inspired by an event described in chapter 32 of 'a storm of swords'

Footsteps sounded from the hallway outside, and Pate squeezed his eyes shut. _Please, please, please, no, please, I just want to sleep._ But the footsteps came to his door nonetheless, and the door opened without a knock. It was one of the meaner knights then, not Ser Jaime or Ser Barristan because they always knocked. Ser Jaime would give him a shining grin and a slap on the back as he escorted him that made Pate feel less afraid, and Ser Barristan spoke softly and called him “lad” and looked at him with sad eyes.

“Come on, boy.” Ser Boros didn’t leave the doorframe. The light from the hallway behind him silhouetted his big body. Pate hoped he wouldn’t be the one whipping him tonight. “You’re needed.”

Pate said nothing. He rose from his bed and slipped his feet into his slippers. He knew he needn’t dress—his long sleeping tunic would more than suffice. He followed Ser Boros from his bedroom, padding along behind the white cloak through the quiet halls of the Red Keep. As they neared Prince Joffrey’s chambers, however, Pate could hear the booming voice of King Robert and the softer words of Queen Cersei.

“I won’t stand for this, woman!”

“He was only having a bit of fun, Robert.”

“There ought be no _fun_ in this!”

“Calm yourself, Robert. He’s just a child.”

Ser Boros pushed open the door, and the argument stopped. Pate’s breath caught. King Robert stood near the prince’s bed, red-faced and sweaty, and the Hound stood near him in the corner of the room. Queen Cersei stood near the fireplace, her hand on Prince Joffrey’s shoulder with her frightening green eyes fixed on the king. Prince Joffrey sat in one of the chairs at his breakfast table, face emotionless but green eyes gleeful when he saw Pate. At the prince’s feet lay a bloody cat and a litter of tiny, bloody kittens. The prince’s knife lay beside the dead cats.

Pate would have retched, but Ser Boros grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards the queen and the prince.

“Seven hells, woman,” King Robert snarled, black eyes on Pate’s white face. “You won’t even let me punish the boy for _this_?”

“Joff shall be punished, for he was very naughty.” She knelt down beside her son, brushing back some of his yellow hair. Then she looked at Pate, and those emerald eyes made him look away. He caught sight of the dead cats again, however, and shut his eyes tight. “Do you not see the boy before you?”

King Robert growled. “Joff’s not sorry when you beat that boy.”

The king was right, though the queen protested. Pate knew that whipping boys were meant to inspire responsibility and remorse in noble children, for Lord Varys had told him so when he brought him to the Red Keep. “You do the Realm a great service by educating her future king,” he’d said with that spider-smile. Pate had not believed him, even then, but his family had been starving, and he knew his father would not welcome him home should he refuse the position offered him. But he had hoped that Prince Joffrey would feel sorry after Pate was beaten once or twice on his account and work harder to ensure such a thing did not happen again. But Prince Joffrey had smiled and laughed when Pate cried the first time he was whipped before the prince, cheeks bared and striped from the Hound’s blows, and Pate had cried himself to sleep that night because he knew he would be lashed and bloody again very soon.

“Would you propose we beat the crown prince of Westeros?”

“A lad needs a good thrashing every now and again if he’s to become a worthy man,” the king insisted, still red-faced and infuriated, though Pate could see his interest waning. He never stood long against the queen’s protestations involving their children.

Joffrey squirmed back a bit into his mother’s touch. His green eyes showed touches of fear. King Robert was an intimidating man, even if nearly nothing remained of the mighty warrior swinging his war-hammer in the songs and stories, and Pate knew he'd hit Joffrey before. Queen Cersei, however, frightened even more than King Robert in Pate’s eyes. She straightened to her full height, arm before the prince’s body. He clung to her arm with both of his hands.

“You are not rearing the son of a fishmonger, or even a lordling, no matter how highborn. How many kings do you believe sit a throne with scars on their cheeks? How many flinch before a raised hand?”

“Gods be good…” King Robert shook his head, poured his goblet full once more, and drained it dry before throwing it into the prince’s blazing fire. Pate flinched at the crash, instinctively backing away from the growing flames and loud and angry voices. Ser Boros hand held him still, stopping his retreat. The king gave him a look, one that almost lingered and warmed with sympathy, before wiping his bearded mouth roughly and glaring at the queen. “Would that your lord father had striped _you_.” He turned and left, and Pate knew it was pointless to beg for the crown’s mercy in this matter.

Queen Cersei tightened her hold on the prince, eyes flashing with unadulterated and unhidden hatred before the wildfire tamed. She pulled Joffrey to his feet, brushing at his curls once more before settling herself into his emptied seat. She held onto the prince’s hand, smiling up into his face, the ferocity of her anger shifting to the fierceness of her affection.

“Now then.” She made sure Joffrey faced Pate. The prince’s face shifted and sparked with glee once more now that his lord father had taken his leave. Pate whimpered a bit – silently, just as Varys had taught and told him – and bowed his head. “Begin, Ser Boros. My son is tired.” 

**Author's Note:**

> there is very little about pate the whipping boy in canon, so naturally i wanted a whole little story about him. i might write more, and i might even make this into a series, giving pate a bigger role in the canon. after all, like tyrion lannister, i have a soft spot in my heart for cripples, bastards, and broken things. this is mostly book-based, as i don't think pate is ever even mentioned in show canon. 
> 
> let me know if you'd like to see more of pate!


End file.
